


27/04 Monday 4. Bet

by Lif61 (UltimateFandomTrash)



Series: #SpnStayAtHome [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Drunkenness, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, M/M, POV Castiel, SpnStaytAtHome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:02:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23929627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UltimateFandomTrash/pseuds/Lif61
Summary: Castiel accidently goads Dean into trying to drink more alcohol than him.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Destiel
Series: #SpnStayAtHome [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1704448
Comments: 5
Kudos: 44





	27/04 Monday 4. Bet

**Author's Note:**

> One of these days, I'll actually post these on a Monday. I've just been feeling sick this week. Almost had to get tested for covid-19, but then my lungs were feeling better so I canceled. Still have to talk to a doctor tomorrow though. But my lungs are usually crap anyway, and it's allergy season. Been having some other stuff going on too. So yeah... I wrote this late. Oops. My bad. I had a ton of fun with it though.
> 
> Written for week 4 of #SpnStayAtHome hosted by @bend-me-shape-me, @helianthus, and @pray4jensen on tumblr.

“I bet that you can’t drink that many shots,” Dean said, watching as the bartender lined them out in front of Castiel.

Cas smiled at his boyfriend beside him. “You know it takes ridiculously large proportions of alcohol to get me drunk, right?”

Dean gave an easy smile and laughed. They weren’t in Kansas, or anywhere that was a bit more homophobic, so Dean was able to rest his head against his for a quick second while he wrapped his arm around him. Strictly speaking, Cas didn’t have to be male all the time, and he knew Dean understood that point just fine, but other people might not.

Dean spoke, “Yeah, like that liquor store incident?”

“No one was around to stop me,” Castiel teasingly pointed out, reaching forward and fingering the first shot.

“Oh, so you’re telling me the goody two shoes angel of the lord is irresponsible.” Cas opened his mouth to reply, but when Dean leaned in, he saw the teasing smile on his face that even lit up his eyes with fondness. “Alright then, angel.” Dean gestured at the bar. “Drink away.”

Castiel downed the five shots like it was nothing.

“Oh, come on!” Dean cried. “Not even a little tipsy?”

Castiel gave Dean a snarky grin (something he’d learned from Sam), and responded, “No.”

“This is ridiculous. Scoot over. I’m having some.”

Dean took a seat beside Cas, doing a great deal of complaining that he was man-spreading (whatever that meant), and then ordered some drinks.

“Dean, you don’t want to drink as much as me.”

“No, listen, baby, I can drink just about anybody under the table.”

“But I’m not just anybody.”

Dean responded by kissing him full on the mouth. Before Castiel could really get into it, Dean was pulling away and downing his first shot.

Dean winced, and then said, “That’s the best part. If I beat you, I get bragging rights for life.”

“You won’t beat me… not unless someone attacked me and temporarily drained all my Grace.”

Dean frowned at the thought, and Cas thought maybe he saw a shiver go through him. He hadn’t precisely meant to turn the conversation over to a darker area. He was just being honest. But Dean was always telling him he was too honest, brutally so. Maybe he had to dial it back a bit. Problem was, he wasn’t sure how to do that.

“So uh… the drinking thing — is that a bet?”

“No, it’s a fact.”

Castiel tried pushing the shots away. Dean reached over his arm, grabbed another, and downed it.

Dean gave him mischievous a smile at his victory, and then wiggled his eyebrows. Cas couldn’t help laughing at it, leaning into him as he did so. Their thighs were touching, and Dean was warm through his jeans.

Dean then shared the reason for his playful smile, “Sounds like a bet to me.”

He grabbed another shot.

Castiel rolled his eyes.

“You’re an idiot.”

Dean was somewhat, uh… tonguing the glass, which made Cas hot in places he really shouldn’t be thinking about to such an extent in public.

After putting it down, he proclaimed matter-of-factly, “Yeah, but I’m your idiot.”

“Remember when I said you were an idiot?” Castiel asked, practically dragging Dean from the bar. His arm was wrapped around Dean’s waist, and Dean’s arm was about his shoulders. Castiel held onto his hand as he tried to keep him steady. Dean glared at the ground outside as if he didn’t trust it. He stumbled, and Castiel helped him upright.

“Idiot,” Dean said. “Hmm… yer thuh idiot.”

“Oh yes, yes, of course, Dean,” Castiel said with a good deal of teasing snark. “That’s clearly why I’m the sober one here and I’m carrying _you_.”

Drunk Dean didn’t understand the logic. Eyes half-lidded and sleepy, he gave Cas a sluggish grin. “Yeah,” he agreed.

Castiel got Dean into the Impala, and Dean started feeling at Cas’ thigh in amazement. He stared, wide-eyed.

“Wow. Are you taken?”

“Yes,” Castiel responded as he turned the key in the ignition — he’d gotten the keys earlier by searching through Dean’s pockets, which had made Dean laugh. Now there were tears in his boyfriend’s eyes. Worried, Castiel asked, “What is it?”

“I can-n buhlieve it. I… I wann-ed to date you.”

“You are dating me.”

Dean smiled big.

Castiel drove then back to the motel, Dean wondrously feeling his thigh the whole time. The touch was nice, but Castiel just wanted to take care of his boyfriend.

When they got back, he got Dean inside. Sam stood, slightly alarmed, “What happened?”

Dean grinned. “I won a bet.”

“He lost,” Castiel told him, going to deposit Dean on his bed. “And it wasn’t a bet.”

“Was too,” Dean argued. He laughed and smacked Cas’ thigh so hard that it stung. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant. “I drank you under the table.”

“Yeah, you sure did,” Castiel told him, “because that’s where I found you after those shots.”

Sam was watching this, wincing.

Remembering something Sam had said once, Castiel turned to note, “He’s pretty smashed.”

Sam’s eyebrows rose, tongue at the tip of his top row of teeth. “Yeah, no kidding.” He looked around, and then grabbed his jacket from the back of a chair. “I’ll uh, go out and get some gatorade for when his hangover kicks in. Just… take care of my brother.”

Castiel, feeling maybe just a tad tipsy, went over to Sam and gave him a hug. “Always.”

Sam awkwardly pat him on the back, and left. Cas went back over to Dean who had fallen asleep and started snoring. Sighing, Cas went down to Dean’s feet to undo the laces on his boots and take them off. Then, he got a blanket from the linen cabinet, and laid it out on top of him, making sure he was tucked in. Now, Castiel sat by his side, running his fingers through Dean’s hair in slow, gentle motions.

“The universe bet I couldn’t have you,” Castiel said. “Everyone did. My superiors, my own soldiers — all the angels. Maybe even God.” Cas pressed a hand to Dean’s cheek, feeling his boyfriend lean into the touch even in unconsciousness. “Guess I won that one.”


End file.
